Persuasion
by collegesweetheart
Summary: Cuddy, with the help of Wilson, persuades Cameron to move out of the Diagnostics Dept and into Emergency. Inspired by the novel 'Persuasion', by Jane Austen. HouseCam. Set at the end of Season 3 and during/after Season 4.
1. Prologue

**I've just finished reading Persuasion, by Jane Austen, and couldn't help but think about my favourite couple, and how the story could relate to them**

**I've just finished reading _Persuasion_, by Jane Austen, and couldn't help but think about my favourite couple, and how the story could relate to them. So here we go. And don't worry, I'm not pretending to be Austen. I wouldn't have a snowflake's chance in Hades.**

* * *

His 'talk' with Foreman could have gone worse. Wilson might not have noticed anything other than the fight that unfolded right before his eyes, but House had seen it. It didn't matter that Foreman didn't want to become House... he already was.

_He'll be back. Sooner or later, he'll realise that he has it easy here. Cuddy does what we want. Not going to get _that_ anywhere else. _

He pushed open the door to his office, mildy surprised to find a female duckling occupying his leather swivel-chair. He made his way over to the desk, standing over her. Expecting her to move. When she merely looked up at him, her green eyes meeting his blue ones, he spoke.

"You now have a bigger office than I do, why don't you go enjoy it." Her eyes flashed at him, a quiet challenge unmistakable. She handed him a folded piece of paper. "Better be naked pictures", he grumbled, unsure whether he should open it or not. She saved him the trouble.

"My resignation letter." Surprise registered, before he smothered it with a neutral facial expression. Her voice was calm, steady, emotionless. She really meant it this time. _Great. One day, and my whole team is gone._ He let the letter drop onto his desk.

She swivelled to one side in his chair and pushed herself to her feet.

"I've gotten all I can from this job." _Job? _He knew her better than that. Allison Cameron had never just considered this position a job. She was leaving because of something else. Something personal. And considering he had done almost everything humanly possible to torture her over the last three years _without_ this reaction, he could only guess this wasn't a result of him firing Chase. Well, not _just_ that, at any rate.

"What do you expect me to do? Break down and apologise? Beg Chase to come back?" His trademark sarcasm pitted his voice. He hoped one of his prompts would touch a nerve, just enough to give him an idea of why his third fellow was abandoning her post. Nothing. Instead, as she made her way around his desk to where he stood, she replied:

"No, I expect you to do what you always do. I expect you to make a joke and go on. I expect you to be just fine." She looked at him one more time, something hidden in her eyes, something like sadness. Regret, maybe.

As she made her way to the door, she turned back to look at him. "I'll miss you."

* * *

"You did the right thing, Dr. Cameron. He's become too complacent. House thinks he has a right to any thing, at any time." Dr. Cuddy's voice echoed in Allison's head as she sat in the Dean of Medicine's office. Cuddy continued to talk at her, commenting on Wilson's despair after his friend's drug trial and their conviction that House was headed down a destructive path towards a black hole that would slowly absorb all of those around him. Or something along those lines. Allison wasn't too sure really, because she hadn't been paying attention.

In her mind, she was replaying the past hour's events. There had been something in House's eyes when she had told him of her intention to resign, something akin to betrayal. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought it could even be hurt.


	2. Chapter 1

_One Year Later_

Smoothing a brush through her tangled hair, Allison Cameron turned and looked at the sleeping man who lay draped half under, half over the bed covers. A wistful smile crossed her face for a moment, before she plucked the shirt he had been wearing the night before from the floor and flung it at him, causing it to land with a light flop across his broad, muscular shoulders. He started, lifting his head from the pillow only to sleepily drop it down again.

"Come on, Lazy. We have to leave for work in half an hour." There was a grunt as a reply, but she knew that he would be in the shower soon. She shook her head. Never had she known a man to be so grumpy in the morning.

Allison buttoned her blouse and made her way into the kitchen to start breakfast. She knew Chase wouldn't eat, but she had to have something in her stomach before she made her way into the E.R. There was nothing definite about her break times, so rather than risk fainting on a patient, she poured milk, yoghurt and muesli into a bowl and waited for her boyfriend to get ready.

* * *

Finishing a shift at the designated time was rare in a hospital, but even more so for those who worked in Emergency. Unlike diagnostics, where you could leave once the patient was diagnosed and the paperwork complete, the work in Emergency was never done. The steady flow of accidents, illnesses and violent incidents didn't slow down just because it was the weekend or the end of your shift. And for the third time that week, Allison found herself kissing Chase goodbye as he left for the night, promising that she wouldn't be far behind. Her voice sounded harsh, even to her own ears, when she found herself defending the time she was putting in.

"You of all people, you should know why I have to stay." She moved backwards slightly, increasing the distance between them.

"I do, Allie. But you don't get paid for the overtime you put in. Sometimes you just have to hand a case over to the person who's taking over from you. I feel like we've hardly seen each other at all this week" He flicked his blonde fringe out of his eyes and gently touched her arm. _God, he looks like a wounded puppy_.

"I know, Robert. Do you think I like working long hours? You think I like not being able to plan anything when I'm on call?" Feeling that she was about to launch into a tirade, Allison stopped herself. She was too frustrated, too darn tired to argue with him. "Look, I'm sorry. I'll try to be out of here as soon as I can. And I'm not working tomorrow… why don't we go out to dinner somewhere?" She was forcing herself to be cheerful now. It seemed to have the desired effect, because Chase visibly softened and relaxed.

"How about I organise something tonight, while you finish up? I'll organise a proper date for us." His suggestion was nice. He was right. They hadn't done anything together for a while. Mentally chastising herself for taking her frustration out on him, Allison agreed. She watched him head down the hall towards the lobby with a little extra bounce in his step and sighed. Dragging out the clip that held her wavy blonde hair back, she ruffled her hair and took a deep breath. It was already six, and a peak hour car accident had sent three small children and two adults into the emergency ward. Allison smoothed her hair and re-clipped it, turning on her heel and making her way back to the triage nurses' station.

* * *

Three hours, two broken arms, a concussion and 72 stitches later, Allison finally made her way through the front doors of Princeton-Plainsboro. Walking to the staff carpark, she flipped open her cell phone, expecting an irritated message from Chase. Nothing. That was strange. She speed-dialled his number, the phone crammed between her ear and shoulder, rummaging through her purse for the keys to her little black Ford. The line rang out, and she huffed as the automated voice requested she leave a message. Her voice strained as she struggled to balance her purse and a small stack of journals.

"Robert. Hi, it's me. I'm so sorry... there was a car accident... small kids... stitches..." Crap. She had been jabbing the wrong key in the lock. No wonder it wouldn't open. "Anyway, are you still up for that dinner? I mean, I know it's more like supper now, but still. You're right, we should spend some time together." She was rambling slightly, distracted and flustered by the need to perform four actions at once. "Um, what was I saying? Oh yeah... dinner. If you made a reservation – and I hope you didn't – do you think they'd mind it being pushed back a bit? I'll be ready in an hour. Less, if you don't mind me wearing my work clothes. Shit!" The journals and various papers she'd been balancing in one arm fell to the ground. Paper slipped under her car and the wind kicked it along the carpark. "I've got to go, call me when you get this, or drop by, I'll be at my place in about twenty minutes anyway." She slapped the phone shut and shoved it in her purse, hurridly gathering up the journals and papers from where they lay. Several sheets had stopped about three feet under her car so she knelt down, butt in the air, and contorted her body so she could reach them. And almost knocked herself unconscious when a solid, distinctly cane-like object jabbed her rump.

Pulling herself out from under the car, Allison turned to scowl at the individual who wielded the offending object. He smirked as she scrambled to her feet, the rough bitumen grabbing and tearing at the parts of the stockings that weren't covered by her figure-hugging pencil skirt.

"There are so many things I could say right now, but it's just too easy." His gruff voice broke through the evening silence. She hated it when he had that smug look on his face.

"House, why are you still here? I saw Thirteen and Kutner leave hours ago." She neatened the pile of papers in her arms and turned away from him, unlocking the car door and throwing the pile and her purse onto the passenger seat.

"You don't get to call her Thirteen. You don't work in the diagnostic department anymore. You lost all diagnostic name-calling rights when you moved into the ED." He lazily dodged her question, attempting instead to get a rise out of her.

"Sorry, House. I just figured that if I referred to her as 'Dr. Hadley' you wouldn't know who I was talking about." Her voice was tired, and she tried to sound as disinterested as possible. In truth, she wasn't. She was the first of House's ex-protégés that his new team turned to when he was harassing them. She had recognised the look on Thirteen's face whenever House was in the room. She saw, clear as day, the way the attractive young woman used her sexuality to manipulate the older man. She knew that Thirteen enjoyed playing up her sexual history to keep House interested in what she was saying.

And as for House... well, Allison saw that he was taking the bait. Hook, line and gorgeous bisexual sinker.

But it wasn't just the evidence of his obvious attraction to her. She was his new Foreman. The only one of his ducklings that he truly respected. Kutner was really no better than Chase – House only kept him on to avoid having to re-hire. But she saw the way House watched Thirteen while she worked. He had a respect for this new woman that he'd never had for her. Now that she was out of his control, he mostly left her alone, only speaking to her when they were thrown together in the elevator or when one of her patients needed his care. Even then, they rarely moved past his barbs about her boyfriend.

House tapped his cane thoughtfully and pouted, replying in a mock-offended voice:

"Of _course_ I remember her name. I made sure I got it. Had to check for any hot bisexual porn she was in. After all, she used to date an actress."

Cameron snorted in distaste. "What do you want, House?" She couldn't be bothered dealing with him right now.

He was careful to watch her face as he replied.

"You."


	3. Chapter 2

To her credit, Allison held her ground well. He had half-expected her to react with shock, but the fleeting reaction that crossed her face was more one of frustration.

"Me." She repeated back to him, distrustfully. She was clearly suspicious of his motives. He wasn't sure quite what that meant, but it certainly indicated that he still held some sway with her. House smirked and looked down at the ground, tapping his cane. After a moment he raised his eyes again to meet hers.

"I'm firing Kutner," he clarified, "I want you back on the team." His face was turned down to the ground, but he kept his eyes locked on hers. This time her reaction was as he predicted. She sighed melodramatically and dropped her hands to her side.

"We've gone through this, House. I'm done with diagnostics. I'm in the Emergency Department now, and I'm happy. You've already tried to get me to come back, and I've already told you – no." Her argument hadn't changed at all, but he still wasn't convinced that she truly meant it. The fight was going out of her, and he could see her starting to falter. So of course, he took advantage of it.

"It's after nine o'clock, your boyfriend has been home for hours now, and you're only just leaving work. And it's starting to happen more, and more often – three times already this week, by my count. There are two possibilities as to why you would say you are happy in those circumstances. Either you enjoy your work and don't mind that you never see your boyfriend, or you're lying. If it was the first, Chase would be driving you crazy. He's clearly the girl in your relationship, so I imagine that he subjects you to bouts of whining about how you're never home and then complains that you never tell him he's pretty…"

"Wait a second, you've been _spying_ on me?" she interrupted indignantly, "even for you, that's a new low." He noticed that she ignored his barbed remark. "You don't want me back, House. If you were really going to fire Kutner, you would have by now. And besides, Cuddy has promised that I'll be first in line for the next position to open up in immunology." She was starting to get worked up now, her keys jangling audibly as she swung her hands. House decided to poke a little more and see what he could uncover.

"Yeah," he whined, "I _could_ have fired Kutner, but then I would have had to hire again. This way, I can get rid of him and his issues, and not need to deal with idiots again." He watched her as she briefly considered it, before she caught herself.

"No, House. Once again, the answer is no. Even if I were considering returning to diagnostics, I wouldn't let you fire someone to create a position."

"Do you miss me?" His sudden change of topic threw her, and a look of shock flew across her face. She opened her mouth to reply but he continued before she got the chance. "When you left, you said that you would miss me."

"I've told you before. I miss the job. You're just the misanthropic bastard who hired me." He chuckled at her comment.

"Did you quit because I fired your boyfriend?" The old saying goes, poke a bear often enough and you're likely to get bitten. "Or is that why you went out with him… pity?"

"I quit for my own reasons, House. You can leave Robert out of it." She was starting to fume now, clearly uncomfortable with the continued pressure he was putting on her. He noticed it seemed as though she was finding it harder and harder to remember her original reason for leaving. He took a step towards her, closing the gap between them. She looked stunned as she backed up against the car, the cool metal a shock on the back of her arms. He locked his eyes on hers and her mouth went dry. Mentally kicking herself, she struggled to think of something to say. She _knew_ he was manipulating her, deliberately intruding on her personal space, trying to make her uncomfortable.

Damned if she'd let him. As he took another step to trap her against the car, she ducked her head and slid in through the open door. The movement broke the contact between their eyes and suddenly she remembered how to speak.

"Was that all, House?" Her voice was cool. He briefly wondered if that final push had been a mistake. He gave a curt nod in reply and watched as she shuffled in her seat, putting on her seatbelt and ferociously jabbing the key in the ignition. Her demeanor became icy, a sharp contrast to the fear and confusion he had seen in her eyes only moments before. This was Allison Cameron, back in control. "Then if you don't mind, I'd like to go home."

House stepped back from the car and she closed the door. He played with his cane absentmindedly as she started the engine and reversed out of the bay. After a moment or two, he sucked in a deep breath and turned to make his way towards his bike. He was going home to think.


End file.
